Maggie sighed in relief as she and Sasha applied the last of the cement to the weakening gate, fortifying it even more, and they moved out of the way as Tyreese and Glenn moved the metal beam in between the gates and began torch the ends to the gate. They'd left the bottoms untouched so they could do so.
"That should do for now," Sasha panted, wiping her brow, washing the cement mixture off her hands.
Maggie washed up and went to the cell block. "Glenn?" She checked their room, but he wasn't in there. She spotted Beth. "Beth." She caught up to her. "Have you seen Glenn or Daryl?"
"No." She set Judith down in her crib. "I thought Daryl went huntin'. He needed some air, so I assumed Rick let him go hunt."
Maggie nodded. "Just let me know if you see either of 'em."
Beth nodded. "Daddy's on watch, so you can rest now."
"Intend to." She stretched her aching arms and returned to her cell, plopping down on the bed. She rolled over and stared at the gray well in front of her. She sighed and closed her eyes. What now? How could they through this? He had such issues with... Glenn.
––
Rick watched Beth closely as she tended to Judith. The young girl knew that baby better than any of them. He was grateful Beth was so attentive to her. He wouldn't know what to do if Beth wasn't here for Judy. He pinched the bridge of his nose and pushed his thoughts back. It wasn't the time for this. He'd given it two minutes and that was all.
"Rick." Sasha waited at the bottom of the steps. "You seen Hershel?"
"He's in the tower with Michonne. Why?"
"No reason." She was lying. "The fence is done. You can't see over it, but it's strengthened. It's worth the risk."
"It is." He padded down the steps. "Did you use all of it?"
"Of that batch. We have a few bags left."
"Good. That's good." He walked by her. "Tyreese still out there?"
"Yes." She eyed him. "Why?"
He didn't answer. He left the cell block and headed down to the gate where Ty and Glenn were. He checked on the number of walkers outside, and he figured they would need four to fend, four to dig. Daryl, Michonne, Sasha and Maggie could fend off walkers while Tyreese, Glenn, Bob and himself dig. If he could just find Daryl, that would work. He went out hunting and hasn't been back since. What the hell did he find?
"Hey, Dad." Carl met him at the second gate.
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember how I told you Carol was teaching the kids how to use knifes?" He squinted in the sunlight.
"What about it?"
"You didn't want her to stop." Rick nodded. "Well, I was wondering if we should teach them how to shoot. Just the older ones. Like Lizzie and Michael."
"We can't spare the ammo, not after what happen the other night."
Carl nodded. "That's exactly why they need to learn. If anyone does get through our walls, we can't protect everyone. Lizzie and Michael need to learn to defend themselves, but more importantly, the other kids. Could you leave Judith defenseless?"
Rick narrowed his eyes.
"Say everyone was out here, and we lost most of them, who would keep her safe? Most of the Woodbury survivors had never held a gun before, and some can't use a gun. Just think about it. Please."
"All right, I'll think about it." He tipped Carl's hat. "Go help mind the fence. I need to find Daryl."
Carl frowned. "Is that such a good idea? You and Daryl alone?"
"Don't worry about it. I can handle Daryl." He walked toward the prison.
Carl was skeptical. Daryl was a tough son of a...er, gun. Dad was tough too, but Daryl... Carl didn't want to see who would've won that fistfight. It made him shudder to think about it. He saw Lizzie and Mika out by the gate, and he muttered a curse under his breath. He walked over to them. "Hey. Hey!"
"What?" Mika was pale.
"You aren't supposed to be by the gates," Carl hissed. "You need to get back. It's not safe."
"You're out here," Lizzie replied calmly, watching the walkers tug at the chain-link fence.
"Yes, but I have a gun, and I can use it. What do you have?"
"A knife."
"Let's just go." Mika tugged on Lizzie's sleeve and headed back inside. It wasn't worth it.
"Go," Carl commanded.
"No." She exhaled deeply. "Do you think they get lonely?"
"No. They don't feel anything." He eyed her. "How long have you been out here in the sun?"
She ignored him. "What's gonna happen? I'll faint."
A gunshot rang out, Carl reacted and shoved Lizzie down, and she yelped as another one sounded. Glenn and Tyreese crouched down behind the reinforced wall, Rick ducked down behind a car and looked for who shot.
A man was in one of the trees, Rick spotted him quickly. He popped off a few more rounds, not particularly aiming at anyone or anything, and Rick noticed something familiar about the man. He tried to get a better view, but a bullet flew by his shoulder, almost hitting it. He did see Carl and Lizzie on the ground, only hidden by the crowd of walkers. He cursed.
"See what you did?" Carl growled.
"Like you knew!" Lizzie shot back. "Get off me!"
"Shh!" He covered her mouth.
A bullet shot the ground by them, Carl moved them closer to the walkers, Lizzie felt the rocks scrapping her skin, and the walkers' growls grew louder at the scent of blood. She groaned against Carl's strained brown shirt, and he hushed her again as another bullet landed beside them.
Suddenly, the gun stopped, the clip now empty, and a grunting sound came, followed by hurried feet. They were moving away. Carl looked over as Rick and Glenn and Tyreese moved out of their hiding places, Lizzie pushed him off, glaring as she inspected her bloody elbows, and he offered her an apologetic hand to help her stand. She took it.
They started for the gate when she suddenly scream, Carl jumped and pulled out his gun, but what she'd screamed at couldn't be solved by a gun. Not yet anyway.
In the midst of the lamest shooting ever, Mika had been caught in the fire. She had two bullets in the chest, bleeding all over the place, and Lizzie ran to her. Carl screamed for his father to get Hershel, Rick didn't see, his view was compromised by garden, so he just rushed inside to find Hershel.
"Mika, hold on." Lizzie held her hand as Mika whimpered in pain. "What can we do?" She looked at Carl.
He had no idea. When he was shot, Hershel and his dad took care of it. He could still remember the feeling of Hershel's metal tool digging into his chest, searching and seizing a small fragment of the bullet. He pushed it back and bent down. "Hershel's coming. Hold on, Mika."
Lizzie pushed Mika's hair back from her face, and Mika stopped breathing. "Mika?" Lizzie put her head on Mika's chest. "What do we do? She's not breathing!"
Carl remembered when Hershel stopped breathing, how Lori used CPR. He had no clue as how to use CPR, but he remembered how she did it. He glanced at Lizzie then opened Mika's mouth. He set his mouth over hers and blew into her mouth three times, not sure how many times he was supposed to do it, then he began the compressions. There were five compressions. He knew that much. But the compressions made blood ooze down her shirt, Lizzie just stared in horror, and Carl forced himself not to give up.
Hershel and Rick made their way down to the gate a few minutes, a loud scream tore through the yard, and Rick ran ahead, seeing Lizzie and Carl being backed against the gate by a walker. Rick didn't hesitate. He shot the walker before he got a good look at it then went over to them. They were both covered in blood.
"Carl, Lizzie." He looked them over. "Are you hurt? Is this yours?" He noticed Carl's gun was gone.
Lizzie pushed Rick away and ran over to the walker he'd just shot, Hershel couldn't even look, and Rick turned. He stared at the little girl he'd taken down. It was Mika Samuels. She still had fresh blood on her shirt. It didn't even have time to dry before she reanimated. He wasn't gone more than five minutes. That was the fastest change he'd ever seen. Jenner had said it takes two minutes to two hours or longer.
"You killed her," Lizzie wailed. "You killed her!"
"Lizzie—"
"Get away from us," Lizzie hissed, her dark eyes smoldering, and Rick didn't try to comfort her. He did what she asked. "I'm so sorry, Mika." She buried her face in the bloody shirt, sobbing.
Carl picked up his gun that Lizzie had grabbed and thrown when Mika reanimated to keep him from killing her. He watched Hershel and his father walk away, Hershel looked so distraught, and Dad was gripping his gun tightly, his jaw clenched. So much for keeping them safe, Carl thought. At least Carol will never know.
He looked at Lizzie. "I'm sorry. I'll—I'll go." He tried to walk away, to let her mourn in peace, but the sobs that tore through her made him feel like he was abandoning her. He remembered how it felt when his mother had died. Lizzie had lost both her parents and thanks to his father, she'd lost her godmother and her only sibling. He crouched down beside her and gave her an awkward pat on the back.
She looked up from Mika's shirt and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing hard. Her face had cold blood on it, Carl could feel it against his neck, and her hands clutched his shirt in bloody fists, and he let her cry out her pain, trying not to be so stiff. He'd only been around women, and most of them left to cry. He wasn't sure how to comfort a crying girl. He'd never had to do it before. So, he used his parents as an example, and put his arms around her shoulders in a comforting hug. It seemed to be working, because her sobs began to slow.
Across the yard, Tyreese had seen everything unfold, and he prayed for Mika and for Lizzie. He was thankful he had Sasha, now more than ever. He needed her more than he could ever say. She was the only link to sanity he had. Bossy, short-tempered, unyielding sanity, but it was better than grasping at straws. He looked at Glenn, and he saw yet another shimmer of hope...die in the young man's eyes. Another grave to dig. How many graves will they have dug before this was over? Hundreds? Thousands? Millions? He had no doubt that those who had any humanity left across the globe had dug thousands of graves altogether. He never wanted to know the actual number. It would be too much for him to bear.
Glenn kicked the beam into place angrily and tossed his gloves on the ground. "We're done for today," he murmured, walking off, his hands at the back of his neck in an attempted to control his rage. He needed to see Maggie, and then he and Rick were going to have a talk about those pricks who think they can come and take what did not belong to them. They needed to be dealt with. Assholes.